


Don't Call Us Heroes

by Killbothtwins



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Come on you know Sara Lance is a meme, Dubious Time Travel Ethics, Gen, Legends, Mostly just an excuse to see what people think of the Legends meddling with history, Time Travel, various formats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-10-21 02:13:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10675569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Killbothtwins/pseuds/Killbothtwins
Summary: 5 times the Legends of Tomorrow were actual legends.





	Don't Call Us Heroes

**1\. Jax**

 

The Seaver-Johnson clan gathered each year around the holidays. The family was so big that the only place that could hold them was Grandma Betty's house. No one minded, really, because Betty Seavers always had a story to tell.

Grandma Seaver had been a racecar driver for a number of years, and before that a mechanic, and in the sixties and seventies she campaigned for civil rights with everything she had.

While the adults cooked and chatted, the children gathered in the backyard around the big oak tree there, craning their necks up to look at Grandma Betty. Her hair was now silvery-blonde, and she was sporting a few more tattoos and scars, but she was still unmistakably beautiful.

 

“Now, what story do you want to hear today?” She asked, perching her reading glasses on her nose, though the story would be told from memory.

“I want to hear about when you met the president!” José requested, struggling over his lisp.

“No,” said Alice, “When you punched a NASCAR driver in the face!’

Betty chuckled, leaning back in her chair, deep in thought. “How about a new story?” She asked. “I haven't ever told you about the aliens, did I?”

A cluster of wide-eyed faces shook their heads. Even the teenagers had wandered over to listen, though usually they would pretend they were too cool for this sort of thing.

“Well, it must have been about 1950. Yeah, somewhere around there.” She said. “I get these years so jumbled.”

“ _Grandma!”_ A child reminded, and Betty laughed again.

“You're right, you're right.” She leaned forward. “Now, at this time, I was dating some boy. I don't remember his name. He's some bigshot senator now, I hear. Now, this boy took me for a race in his car.”

“Grandma Seaver!” A teenager called, shocked.

“Oh, hush. Your generation's not the only one to do naughty things. Anyway, the boy crashes into the side of the road. I whack my head, of course, but I couldn't really care. You know why?”

“Why?”

“Aliens.”

“ _Aliens?_ ”

“Yep. A big, 'ol alien rock, sitting there, plain as could be. Now my fella and his friends just disappeared, seeing as I was incapacitated and all, with my legs under the dash, but that wasn't the last I'd see of him. No, sir.”

 

The grandchildren, who seemed to have multiplied, hardly made a noise. Grandma Seaver was no liar, they knew. This would be a true story.

“All around town, we started hearing mysterious stories. Huge, evil creatures that would swoop in and getcha before you even knew it.” Betty scratched her chin. “This is where the real hero comes in. Him, I remember perfectly. Mister Jefferson Jackson, or Jax.” She winked conspiratorially. “Had the cutest brown eyes you've ever seen.”

A few children giggled.

“Jax was an angel.”

“An _angel?_ ” Every child echoed.

“Well, he was something. He appeared just in time to save all of our lives.”

“ _Wow_.” Jeannie, another grandchild, breathed.

“Yep. Now, hold your horses, hold your horses, I'll get around to just what he saved us from.” Betty leaned back. “Get ready for a _story._ ”

* * *

Annie, one of those grandchildren, grew up to be quite an enterprising author. _Milkshakes, Aliens, and Cars_ turned out to stay on the bestseller list for over a month.

“What are you reading, Ma?” Jax asked, gathering up a bag of clothes from his dresser. They were only stopping home for a quick layover, as it were, and he was sick of only wearing clothes from the fabricator.

“Huh?” She asked, immersed in the book. “Oh.” She showed him the title. “It's about a black angel in the 1950s who saves a town from aliens.” She said. “It's pretty interesting, hon, if a little unrealistic. Want to read it?”

 

Jax could feel himself choke. The scenario sounded very familiar. It wasn't…?

“I'll get my own copy.” He said quickly.

“Okay. But watch out for chapter twenty; the boy and the girl go to _Lover's Lane._ I'm sure you don't ever do anything like that.”

Jax groaned. Rip was going to _kill_ him.

 

* * *

 

**2\. Ray and Stein**

 

RAYMOND AND THE PROFESSOR: EXAMINING THE MYTH

**Professors Alice Rickman, John Ice, Kathy Jones, and Mark Lord**

 

The legend, perhaps, is not as renowned of that of King Arthur, or beloved as Lancelot and Guinevere, but the fact remains that _Raymond and the Professor_ is one of the world's best-known and mysterious stories of the medieval canon (Footnote 2).

However, the source of this myth remains shrouded in mystery. Who were these figures? Why do they represent such an odd pair in the otherwise romanticized story of the middle ages? And why do we, as people in the 21st century, connect so deeply to Raymond and the Professor?

This paper attempts to answer all of these questions, though it is likely that there are parts of this story that will remain a mystery forever.

The myth presents two central characters, who are also titular. However, some versions have them with wildly varying and exaggerated magical powers; Renault writes that Raymond “has the ability to shrink at will, to to get into the cracks of the wall and peep on handmaidens.” However, other accounts, the authors lost to time, are insistent that indeed, Raymond is an entirely human figure, and in fact could be clumsy and kind at times (Footnote Three). The Professor, also called “Sir Stein” and “The Teacher” according to different accounts, presents changingly according to myths as well. The Professor is kind and stern, generous and selfish (Footnotes 4, 5). In one hilarious account, the Professor is not one person at all, rather a young man and an old one combined, a cable about wisdom and youth combined.

The story itself varies as well. Raymond and the Professor appear in a flash of light, from the floorboards, or from a metal monstrosity resembling a pirate ship, later paid homage to in myths of Russia, China, and the United States (Footnote 6)

The constant, however; Raymond and the Professor are lost travellers from a far land, helping those they meet along the way. A Canterbury-esque tale, _Travels,_ (Written by Geoffrey of Monmouth) describes a number of adventures the two meet along their travels, including the Professor getting into a brawl with Merlin and Raymond charming damsels.

Another curious constant among the mythos is the tale of the machine. In each instance, the adventure ends as Raymond and the Professor save the world by defeating a monstrous creature of metal, which caused “the ground to tremble and the earth to shake.”

The machine described in the story and later sketches seems eerily to match the earthquake machine used in Moira Queen and her collaborators’ plot to level the Glades of Starling City. This is just the first in the many mysteries of _Raymond and the Professor._

 

Read on for a more in-depth analysis of this famous myth.

 

* * *

 

**3\. Mick and Leonard**

 

In the refugee camps of East London and America and China and everywhere in between, sometime in the 22nd century, people don’t have much to do. So they tell stories.

The favorite stories, the ones told huddled around campfires at night and whispered in neighborhoods occupied by Vandal Savage’s troops, are about two men.

These men, they say, burn so hot and so cold it hurts to look at them.

Even a few years ago, these words wouldn’t have meant anything to these refugees. Heat was something you did to a cup of tea, or, with the advances in technology, just press a button. Cold was an abstract item as you hurried from speedbus to speedbus, wrapped in hyper-absorbent coats.

But now, when it seemed there was nothing but fighting off cold and hunger and starting fires and feeling the fierce tang of fear in your mouth, the stories seemed a whole lot less abstract.

These men, they say, are not good people.

A decade ago, they would have hated this fact, hated that they weren’t good, that they weren’t the knights in shining armor and the heroes with smiles and moral codes But now, in a world where their white knights, the Time Masters, won’t return to save them, it appeals a little more. They're uninterested in ancient heroes of old, who disappeared in a blaze of red skies or a thud of an arrow or sacrificing themselves for their city. They understand wanting nothing more than to survive and make sure those you love survive, too.

These men, they’ll mutter while eating the last of their stolen rations, these men burn so hot and so cold that sometimes, they’ll burn so long that they’ll burn each other up and leave nothing left behind. They fight throughout the stars and leave each other for a time. But they always find each other again.

This part appeals to the refugees, too.

This story is never told, because these camps never happen, because the world lives without Savage’s rule, because the ice sacrificed himself for the fire, because Savage is dead thrice over, because this world as they know it does not exist at all with heat and cold and death and hanging on to life with bare fingertips--

But it does. Sometimes, in the happy time that should not exist but does, families with their happy children in their laps eating candy, will still tell stories of the two men. They’re just an urban legend, but for some reason, people still speak of them with the reverence of a time that doesn’t exist.

 

* * *

 

**4\. Sara**

 

**Posted at 1:13 AM to Tumblr by HistoryMysteryNerd**

Guys???? You know how i've been working on my thesis nonstop for like 24 hours?? Well I think I just accidentally uncovered a bisexual blonde time traveller.

seriously.

(Insert It's-Always-Sunny-conspiracy-theory-gif-jpeg here)

I mean I'm probably hallucinating from lack of Rest and Proper Nutrition but I swear. I've been looking through this old database someone found in the basement of my university (actually I think two teenagers looking for a place to hook up were the ones to find it lol) and this lady KEEPS SHOWING UP?!!!!!

I saw her in the b/g of something from the moon landing, and kissing some chick on D-Day, and in a LITERAL PAINTING FROM THE MIDDLE AGES!!!!! I'm freaking out here guys!!!!!!!

There's another like illustration of a blonde chick macking on ol’ Billy Shakespeare. Thats right. The time-travelling bisexual made out with WILLIAM. SHAKESPEARE!!!! You wish you were that legendary!!!!

I couldn't bring home any pics bc they're Classified, but I asked my Prof and she said “oh yeah that's just Roxie” and when I was like what the hell, apparently, historians find this chick ALL. THE. TIME. They think it's a dominant gene or something that creates a strong resemblance, or else just a set of super weird coincidences. This gay showed up so often in research they gave her a freaking nickname!!!!!!!!!

Anyway, I discovered a time traveller and now I'm going to bed. What did you do with YOUR life today???

 

**Posted at 5:00AM on Tumblr by YourMama’sSoFat**

Time-travelling Bisexual Roxie is my new favorite meme on Tumblr

 

**Posted at 5:30 AM on Tumblr by ImAnOldLady**

No way! I learned about Roxie when I worked for University of Keystone City! The scientists there had a competition every month for who could find the most Roxies, and the winner got a sticker that said #1 Gay and free pizza. I think the record was 22 sightings in one day. Good times.

 

**Posted at 6:45 AM on Tumblr by MIssTeequee**

Newest cryptid: bisexuals

 

**Posted at 7:00 AM on Tumblr by QUHG68H**

I hate being the one to add to posts, but rumor has it that they nicknamed her Roxie because they think Roxanne by The Police might have been written for her. In summary Roxie is a time travelling gay who seduced like all the band members and groupies and probably like two presidents and I'm naming all my children after her ¯\\_(ツ)_/ ¯

 

* * *

 

**5\. Kendra and Rip**

 

Out in the deserts of Egypt, there was a small museum, half-buried in the dust.

Over-excited tourists took guided Jeeps through the city and into the outskirts, sipping on sweating water bottles and fanning themselves with pamphlets describing various tourist attractions and instructions back to the hotel.

 

This was a fairly unknown museum, dedicated to figures mostly lost to time centuries ago in a meteor shower.

A pleasant-faced museum guide met the guests at the door, leading them inside, where it was cool.

“Welcome, welcome!” The guide said. “You are ready to learn about the fallen city and history’s most doomed lovers?”

The tourists nodded eagerly, remembering the romantic stories the commercials had told.

 

The guide led them through the exhibits, showing a necklace that had apparently belonged to Shay-Ara, broken pieces of artwork from the destroyed city, and the supposed meteors that had done it.

“Now you know the great love story of Prince Khufu and priestess Shay-Ara.” The guide said, looking at the starry-eyed guests, captivated by the tragic love story. “You know that they were killed by a scorned lover, Savage, and that they are destined to reincarnate, over and over again so that they may find each other.” There was one room left. “Now you will learn the story of Shay-Ara and Gareeb.”

The room they entered had a few displays as well, bits of a metal cage and some written accounts.

“They say Gareeb came to kill Savage, to ensure that he would never commit an atrocity again.” There was a rough-hewn drawing of a man with sharp features and oddly European dress in one corner, titled _The Stranger._ “He failed.”

“But,” the guide said. “They say that Shay-Ara wanted revenge. Gareeb found her and took her hunting across the stars for the one who had killed her lover in one of her lifetimes.”

The guests gaped, enraptured with the story. “Gareeb helped her find him, for it was said that Savage killed the one he loved as well.” The guide showed a box with the imprint of a dagger in it. “It is told that when Gareeb found Savage for her, Gareeb stabbed him in the heart with the very knife he had killed Prince Khufu and the Priestess so many years ago.”

The tour guide paused for dramatic effect. “Once Savage was dead, Shay-Ara could live in peace with her love.”

The tourists gasped, but two, lingering in the background seemed unimpressed.

 

“Maybe it was Shay-Ara that killed Savage.” The woman, a tall, dark-skinned American with a streak of lighter hair, said. “Maybe Shay-Ara was the one who took Gareeb out across the stars.”

“Maybe Gareeb has a life other than going to museums to correct people.” The man, who had a British accent, grumbled quietly.

“Maybe Shay-Ara didn't want to be with Khufu this time.” The girl insisted. “Maybe she just wanted to explore who she was, you know, as a person.”

 

The tour guide looked surprised. “I suppose?” They said. “Most of the details are lost to time.”

 

“Kay, but like, earlier in the museum you said Khufu seduced Shay-Ara. It was probably the other way around. I think.”

The man groaned. “Stop.”

She scowled at him. “Like you weren't complaining they made Gareeb have magic powers.”

The man threw up his hands. “It undermines all the work he's done as a human! Giving him magical powers is a cop-out!”

“Perhaps I ought to call security.” The guide said, but was ignored as the two began arguing among themselves.

 

“They're acting like _Gareeb_ was the hero, when it was _clearly_ Shay-Ara!” The girl said.

“Gareeb _was_ the one who took her in the first place.” The man argued.

“Yeah, but _she_ killed Savage. And Gareeb’s all lame; he doesn't even have any powers, you said it yourself!”

 

The bickering continued even as the two were led out the door, past the gift shop and into the sun.

“So,” the tour guide said brightly, “Who wants to visit our world-famous _Egyptian Princess_ cafe?”


End file.
